


Lazy Parallel Worlds

by OmaKokichi



Category: New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Amnesia, And a bit more dying on the side, Death, Execution, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, Lies, M/M, Mental Instability, More Death, Murder, Nightmares, Nobody is safe (:, Ouma wants to win, Paralelle universes, Resets, Sleepwalking, Slow Burn, Spying, Theoretical physics if you squint, Timelines, accidental feelings, danganronpa - Freeform, dying, killing game, lockpicking, oumas kinda mentally scarred oops, plot divergence, teaming up
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-19
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2018-11-15 23:29:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11241513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OmaKokichi/pseuds/OmaKokichi
Summary: WARNING!!! MAJOR SPOILERS FOR ALL DEATHS, EXECUTIONS AND THE MASTERMIND!After a period of time Ouma couldn't quite remember the length of he felt like he was hovering above incomprehensible miles of absolute nothingness.He could hear, see, feel, and sense the void in the way that he knew that there was nothing else in existence except from him.He had never felt so alone in his life.Was this supposed to be hell?'It's little pathetic really.'And then he felt it.Ah, he was falling.Somehow without a body, without sight of anything above or below him he knew he was falling.The letter 3 was scorched vividly in his mind clearer than anything he had ever experienced in his life.All he could see was 3.3.





	1. Real Fiction and Pretend Reality

**Author's Note:**

> Hello I'm back again! I was asked by a few people to write more sweet fluffy stories...  
> Oops?  
> Buuut I wanted to try something a little darker and more descriptive.  
> The story is based on an idea I had played with for a while about Ouma being able to reset the killing game.  
> the song Real • Fiction suits this chapters mood quite well in my opinion.  
> QUICK WARNING this chapter involves blood, pain death and a few gnarly descriptions of it.  
> Really all just sunshine and roses over here.
> 
> But with that I'll shut up ;D

Ouma knew this was the beginning of the end. He would die whether he wanted it or not.

The poison had already crawled into his veins and it was currently trespassing every crevice of his body. Making his thoughts throb and crackle in his skull like fireworks.  
Searing white hot flames were charring every nerve in his body, bubbling right up to the surface of his skin.

Torture poison, he recalled bitterly. The crossbow arrow had been lodged into his vertebrae, leaving him something close to paralysed, the poison itself had been trickled directly into his central nervous system. So for lack of better words, he was utterly fucked.  
He would've laughed at the sheer absurdity of it all, but every tug on his oesophagus left his mouth pooling with bitter sickly copper.  
It was he who had planned this outcome so he just had to grit his teeth and bear it.

Momota was dragging him backwards as his body lay limp as a rag-doll, leaving his legs and fingertips to trail across the cool cement, the hot velvety blood he danced his fingers in was almost soothing, at least it would have been, if it wasn't his. 

'Haha wow is all that blood really mine?' He couldn't help but be a little in awe at the volume of it.

 

He was now slumped against the press, his head lolling a little as he tried to pull his shirt over his shoulders but his arms weren't really cooperating. Momota must have pitied him a little because he began to help him out of it.  
heh, he was the last person he expected to be taking off his clothes in a dark room.

The blood that leaked out of him was gooey and dry so it peeled and caught on his skin a bit whilst taking his shirt off. A little like when he poured glue on his hand when he was a kid just to peel it off later. It was nothing compared to the scorching needles he felt pricking every inch of his body. If anything it was a welcome distraction.  
'Why the hell did she have to shoot him with torture poison of all things?'

He had tried lying to himself, saying things like 'hey this is nothing for an evil supreme leader' but that couldn't stop the cramped twitches and convulsions of his muscles. If he had the strength, he would probably be heaving up his breakfast onto the floor around about now.

Momota's face seemed twisted into something between guilt and uncertainty as he helped drag his limbs onto the concrete slab of the press. His sickly green features gave away his nausea as he wordlessly helped him up onto his soon to be death bed.

"Hey, hey, Momota-chan don't tell me you're chickening out now after all of this." he teased despite the distinct metallic tang that overflowed his senses. He would keep up his facade until the end or it was all for nothing. He may be a dead man but he still had his pride.

When he didn't reply for a few seconds Ouma was almost afraid he wouldn't go through with it after all his preparations. But after staring at Ouma with an unreadable expression for a while he nodded curtly and made his way up the short steel steps.

Ouma shifted his gaze upwards. straight up at the press, it was only a couple of centimetres away from his face... despite him never being very claustrophobic he couldn't repress the suffocating dread that bubbled in his stomach. 

He could try to lie to himself all he wanted but deep down he knew, these were the last few seconds of his life and he couldn't help but wonder if it was all worth it. 

just to be squished like a puny bug, with not a single one of the people he was doing this for to care, in fact they would almost definitely be relieved.

No. He was not dying for nothing, he was going to WIN this game.  
He had promised himself that from the start, after all.  
To beat the mastermind at their own game was the ultimate reward, and he would live on through everything he left behind for the others.

A static little voice in the back of his mind couldn't help but ask "what if it doesn't work though? What if Saihara figures it out?"  
Like that matters now though, it was too late to turn back.

Like the slip of a taught rubber band, all of the feelings he had crushed down through his scheming were beginning to crash back into him. He was only left feeling surprised though, he didn't think he could even FEEL anymore after all his lying.

Is this how all the others felt when they realised they were going to die?  
Gonta had tried to be strong for everyone and had held back his tears, but Ouma knew he was telling a kind lie, he was terrified, he felt world shatteringly guilty. and he didn't deserve a second of it.

Iruma was scared too, she was never particularly pleasant to him sure but she didn't deserve to die, and especially not like that.

He let it sink in to the pit of his stomach that both of their deaths were his fault, not by his hands but his venomous little lies. He felt like pinecones were begin stuffed into his stomach, the looming dread that crushed down on him because of it had turned his bones into cement, the weight of it was the only thing pinning him in place and stopping him from bolting out of his gloomy little makeshift coffin.

Is this how Tenko felt when the blade stabbed into her neck? What about Angie when her skull had been dented in? Or maybe Toujo when her skin had been ripped open? Hoshi when he had been forced to choke down water? Akamatsu when her windpipe had been squeezed shut?

Recollections of their faces popped into his mind as his thoughts raced, but then he realised they were all much better people than him and he shouldn't compare. He was an evil leader, after all.

Another face resurfaced from his memories. Amami Rantarou , he was an enigma really, he had never caught much of a chance to speak to him, let alone know him. The mysterious  
green haired boy who had infuriated him in his investigations because he simply couldn't connect any information to him, but he didn't hate him. Quite the opposite really, he didn't seem boring after all, it was a shame he never got to know him.

Over a minute had passed of Ouma contemplating in an expanding puddle of his own blood and he was beginning to wonder what was taking Momota so long.

After all he wasn't sure how long he could keep up his resolve to go through with this plan.

He pushed back the pain and craned his neck back to look at him, Momota's shoulders were haunched up to his ears and he was shakily staring down at clenched fists. Until now he hadn't made eye contact with him, yet he finally spoke up "Ouma are you really sure about this? You dont have to do this you know... we can call the others and try and get some medicine this doesnt have to happ-"

Ouma cut him off glaring with everything he had left in him, voice only slightly betraying his pain but his serious tone didn't waver nonetheless "Im ready, Momota please, lets end this game."

He hadn't said please in a long time he silently laughed to himself.  
He again tilted his head back up to look at his new ceiling. As Momota took in a deep shaky breath, Ouma closed his eyes and pretended he was just going for a blood test. thats all it was, that was the only reason he felt a little nervous everything's going to be fine, nothings wrong here nothing-  
Im really going to die.

 

He couldn't prevent the tension of every muscle in his body as he braced for the impact as much as he couldn't lie to his own brain any longer.

Adrenaline was whirling around his body when he finally felt the deafening 'click' of the machine.  
Haha, so THIS is what the fear of death feels like, like I thought.  
its not boring at all.  
He wasn't sure if his apathy was a lie or he really found it amusing.  
'Well I am a liar after all.'

 

The machine was rumbling to life shaking the entire slab, his body shook with it.  
I wonder if i'll be able to see all my dead classmates now?  
If I'm not going to hell that is.  
I wonder if I can finally meet Amami and figure out the deal with that guy?  
That didn't sound too bad so he focussed his thoughts onto that.

 

He cleared his worries and put on a shaky smile as he heard Momota say through gritted teeth "I'm sorry..."  
Wow, what a loser even to the end~  
The machine crashed to a halt and in its brief second before smashing down on him he spoke for the very last time.  
"Im just winning the game, dead or alive."

 

He felt the crunch of every single bone in his body being crushed at the same time rip through him for about half a second before the entire world cut to black.

And after a period of time he couldn't quite remember the length of he felt like he was hovering above incomprehensible miles of absolute nothingness.  
He could hear, see, feel, and sense the void in the way that he knew that there was nothing else in existence except from him.  
He had never felt so alone in his life.  
Was this supposed to be hell?  
'It's little pathetic really.'  
And then he felt it.  
Ah, he was falling.  
Somehow without a body, without sight of anything above or below him he knew he was falling.  
The letter 3 was scorched vividly in his mind clearer than anything he had ever experienced in his life.  
All he could see was 3.  
3.

He was rapidly approaching something and he had no way of knowing what was in store for him.  
It was all approaching too quickly and his thoughts were running a mile a millisecond.

Im dead, this is death, why can I still think? Why do I have thoughts? What is 3? Where am I falling?  
Before he could muster up an answer to even one of his questions his consciousness was smashed apart by the impact. He had collided with something. Nothing made sense anymore.


	2. Sleepy Tides and Lying Moons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ouma finds himself in the afterlife and gets bored so why not just screw up reality itself?

He felt no pain, but a splash. He was on his hands and knees in a thin veil of water. The black fluid sloshed around him as it was pulled back and forth by a faint tide. The water was only deep enough to be a shallow puddle however, from what he could see it carried on for miles in every direction. Which itself was only filled with void scenery, nothing but unobscured emptiness in every direction, there was no light except for a slightly silvery reflection in the water, yet there was no source to its light. 

It was faintly tugging him somewhere... in the periphery of his vision he saw the faint glow of a milky white dot, in this world of darkness it stuck out like a beacon.

The miles around him seemed empty meaning he had nowhere else to go so he reluctantly dragged himself to his feet and began walking towards it aimlessly. He noted that the only sound he heard was the water rolling around him, frothing around his ancles and hissing lightly. It would've reminded him of a beach but it sounded so... unnatural. There was no sand he decided. That and the fact that it was the single only noise that could be heard. 

He didnt hear his own breathing and he shortly concluded that he WASNT breathing anymore. It felt uncomfortable and unatural in his chest, like he should have been suffocating but he didn't need oxygen anymore . The rest of his body was now visable but it just felt oddly stationary like all the life in it was frozen. There were no others here like him so he really must have been stuck in this place alone then. 

He waded through the shallow tide for what felt like centuries, he had a hunch that time was either distorted or nonexistant in this world. As he was left alone with his thoughts he briefly remembered reading about a place called Limbo that some christain groups preached about, he believed it was Catholics. 

Apparently it was a place where souls who were not good enough to go to heaven or bad enough to go to hell would become stuck in. Could that be where he was? If so how long should he expect to be trapped here? He already disliked death it was getting boring.  
He was hoping to become a ghost honestly, haunting the others would have been so much fun. 

He didn't really like the name Limbo so he decided to give it a new name, he felt trapped between the void and the real world, his head was a little bit too confused to come up with anything too creative so for now he would just refer to it as the Medium. 

Just as he reluctantly gave up on his fantasies of pranking his classmates through haunting them he finally began to near what he had been walking towards and the dot grew into a distinct sphere with each approaching step.

He could see it clearly as he stood before it.  
It resembled a small dim star, around three times his height. It's faintly shimmery surface resembled milky silver tainted with cyan blue.

It emanated a low hum that drowned out the silence surrounding him giving him a tempoary relief. And just as he was about to be lost in his awe at its rippling surface, it changed. It took on new colours that began to focus into something he instantly found familiar. He could see... a class trial. HIS (now previous) classmates and a single exsisal. This was... there was no doubt about it.  
His class trial.

He lowered his body and sat down in the tide crossing his legs for a while with his neck craned upwards just watching it unfold... like he had thought Saihara was onto him. 

Their voices were slightly distorted but he could tell they were arguining back and forth with his imposter, questioning his identity and spewing an assortment of insults directed at Ouma. Harukawa kept babbling on about him being a remnant of despair, 'nishishi she's a lot dumber than she looks' he couldn't help but tease her despite his situation.

If he were there this trial wouldn't be so dragged out. He hummed to himself.  
There was nothing he could change now though, not whilst he was stuck in this world.  
Not whilst he was dead.

 

Before he could get depressed about it he stood up again, feeling colder than before. He began walking aimlessly around the side of the sphere to try and muster up some warmth if it were even possible. He had a feeling it wasn't. 

As he walked he couldn't help but wonder if the others who had died were stuck here somewhere, or if this was his own private little boring hell. He wasn't sure if being able to see the others in the sphere was a relief or torture, reminding him that he barely existed anymore. He shook his head with a bittersweet smile... It wasn't like him to be this negative. 

He neared the other side of the orb and then stopped dead in his tracks.  
There was a tube plugged into it, thin enough to wrap his hand around. It was filled with silky red fluid continuously pumping into the sphere. He allowed his eyes to follow the pipe and he almost stumbled back at the sheer size of what lay before him. 

It resembled the sphere in almost every aspect except for its collosal size, it must have been over a mile in just height alone, the other differance was its colour, it was Maroon just like the liquid in the pipe.  
A little to its left was a smaller sphere similar if not identical to the one he stood next to, there was no pipe wired into it, its dullness made it seem... dead. 

Ouma knew this was not the time to be dicking around but the fact he was already dead meant there was nothing to really lose at this point, and so he threw away the little caution he had when he was still alive.  
'This couldn't just mean nothing, could it?'

He wasn't quite sure what or why but there was something he needed to do.  
He didn't like putting his faith in illogical things but nothing really made sense at this point, he had a gut feeling so he ignored his logic.

He glanced back to the projection of the class trial.  
Could it be...? 

Ignoring the nervous tension in his stomach he made his way up to the pipe and wrapped his slender fingers around it, it was warm.  
And with little hesitation he gave it a firm tug, it gave a little so he kept pulling, it seemed to be sucking onto it so he decided to just rip it out and it finally plopped out spilling red liquid into the murky tide. 

It shimmered on its surface like oil until he could no longer see its illumination, the sphere had dulled like an old coin, cutting to black and resonating a static noise that reminded him of old televisions.

He could no longer observe the outcome of his class trial. But oddly enough he didn't really care anymore, he knew he had failed. Besides what was the point when he had no control over it?

This however... 

Just as he thought that the black sky around him began to change becoming denser and warmer. It rumbled to life like an engine and crashing thunder rolled around him, followed by intense flashes and crackles of lightning. It was like the Medium was angry at him, he couldn't help but smirk a little, he hated this place anyway. 

Ignoring its lecture he tied the tube in a knot to stop the leaking flow and released it from his grasp. it splashed and bobbed on the tides surface. He ignored it as it prodded his ankle, that world didn't matter anymore. 

He didn't turn his back as he made his way over to the small dead sphere a few yards ahead oh him, the thunder was so loud he stuggeled to hear his thoughts but he ignored it all, even as the lightning attacked the path ahead of him.

Upon finally reaching it he noticed another tube floating in front of it, but it was not plugged into the sphere.  
He hoisted it onto his shoulder and walked towards the spheres surface.

He might be about to fuck up all of reality right now considering the place he was in. But he was never the type to idly sit by and do nothing.  
He acted.  
He plunged the tube into its surface, pushing it further and further into its depths until it grasped a hold of it sucking it inwards.

It ignited into a blinding silver light, the red liquid from the giant sphere was pumping into it and it had awoken it as if it were hibernating.  
A new image was slowly displayed on its surface, hopes peak academy.

He... hadn't the slightest idea what this all meant but he felt like he had gotten somewhere. The real question was whether that place was good or bad. 

A new hum resonated from the ball, a cleaner lighter note that drew him in.  
He felt the overwhelming childish impulse to place his hand in the fire and touch it.  
Was there anything to lose at this point?  
He had already lost everything.  
He shrugged and without much more thought he strode forward as casually as he would when strolling in a park. He didn't stop as he was centimetres from its surface and let his body be submerged into the sphere.

That's when IT happened.

He felt like his cells were trying to rip apart and the world around him was breaking, splitting into two. It was ripping and tearing like the pull of fabric the seams were plucking and freying loose. The sphere was pulsing around him like it was trying to stretch and compress him all at once. He felt like his brain was about to implode. He desperately tried to claw his way out, the pain was quickly approaching unbearable but his hands were touching what felt like treacle it wouldn't let go of him as it disassembled every cell in his body. 

Before he could fully comprehend it he suddenly fizzled out of existence in that world. 

What the hell was going on?  
Too much had happened, he was completely lost. He had died, then woken up in the afterlife only to be plunged down into the Medium? Landed only to find odd spheres and then break one and revive another? 

"Ughhh."

He groaned as his head throbbed and the numbness of the cool surface pressed against it only gave him temporary relief. He smacked his head into it nonetheless.  
Huh?  
It actually... Hurt.  
He smacked his head into it again and it made a distinct tin sounding crash but the sting in his forehead was even more distinct.

He couldn't help but giggle a little giddily as the realisation hit him that he could move, and actually feel pain, he felt suspiciously alive.  
A voice rang out and it almost made his jump out of his skin.  
"What the heck is going on in there?" A familiar voice he couldn't quite place Called out "hang on a second."

Ouma had barely even registered the fact that he wasn't alone before a creaking noise rumbled around him and harsh light seared his eyes. He blinked a few times before squinting up at a suspiciously human shaped figure.

His vision was a little hazy but his voice almost spoke out invoulentarily, he felt like centuries had passed. 

"Huh?" Ouma pondered out loud "wait... wait a second are you an angel?" Ouma called out a little bit of giddy excitement creeping back into him. He almost felt like his normal self.  
"Not even close kiddo." the voice replied with a twinge of amusement.  
"But most people just call me Amami, Amami Rantarou that is. And you are?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woo new chapter!  
> The next chapter will either be out at the weekend or next week since I have a lot of college assignments to finish up but it hopefully won't be too long!  
> If this chapter was too confusing please let me know so I can make some changes, its supposed to be a little confusing since its from Oumas perspective and shits hitting the bricks but I don't want it to be too unclear.  
> As always thank you for reading and I'll see you soon :D


	3. Unfamiliar Familiarity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I don't know what happened here but I'm not complaining-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OOF hi,  
> ok lets just ignore the fact that I disappeared for like 50 years.  
> And I apologise in advance for leaving it on a cliff-hanger, there's probably going to be a few changes to the story since I have a few ideas on how I can fuck it up even more but yeah I hope you look forward to the next chapter, I'm already working on it so it should be out very soon ^^;

Ouma felt his blood chill; his bony frame froze. Amami was dead. 

Ouma was dead. 

Had he really found his way to the afterlife? He let the delusion of heaven slip his mind as his eyes adjusted to the bright lights scorching his retinas, his violet gaze scanned over a classroom filled with vines, askew rotting desks, blood red barbed wire guarding the murky windows.

“ah, so I’m in hell.” He chuckled weakly as he tried to adjust to the sensation of air filling his lungs again. Amami looked taken aback for a brief second.  
“I suppose most people would assume that when waking up in such an odd place.” The green haired boy chuckled airily, he cocked his head as he repeated his earlier question. “who are you? If you don’t mind me asking.” 

Ouma froze for the second time, his relief at seeing Amami after what felt like years seeped away as the realisation dawned on him. He really doesn’t remember me, does he?  
He briefly considered that Amami was playing a prank on him, he couldn’t quite remember if he was the prankster type… but between the swirling concoction of sickly sweet friendship and cold calculating expectation fluttering Amami’s face, he decided he wasn’t lying. Ouma knew a liar when he saw one. 

Ouma mentally slapped himself. He was back in the locker, just like the beginning. And if Amami was alive, but didn't remember him there was only one logical conclusion.  
he had reset to the beginning.

all the way back to the beginning... before they had even introduced themselves, before they knew the blissful ignorance they had at the absence of Monokuma, and the killing game.   
They were strangers to each other, it made no sense, but really, what had made sense up until now? And more importantly was this really ok?   
why had he been given a second chance? Shouldn't it have been Kaede who had a second chance? all he had done was cause trouble, and screw up his own twisted plans.   
It almost looked as if the universe was on his side after all.   
Everything that had happened up until now was blurry and nonsensical, but right now he was alive and he wasn't going to throw that away. He could think about it later, right now he had to introduce himself to classmates he already knew. 

Ouma gasped in his dramatic tone, clutching his heart, blinking away any remains of his genuine shock. his theatrics were almost a reflex to his uncomfortable emotions lately. “Amami chan, you really don’t remember me?” He forced tears to well up in his eyes as he looked up at him, he had to hold in a giggle for his next line. “don’t tell me, my beloved Amami chan has amnesia?” 

Brief panic skittered across the green haired boys face, Ouma could practically see him scanning his brain for connection between the two of them, it was amusing seeing him flustered really. “I… have actually lost some memories related to my talent but I don’t see how that could be related to you, I hope you weren’t trying to avoid the question-“ 

“yeah yeah, whatever, I lied!” Ouma brushed him off nonchalantly. He wasn’t really sure why he was acting like this again, but he couldn’t stop himself, he impulsively fell into his old habits. “My names Ouma Kokichi, and as the Ultimate supreme leader you better not piss me off okay? Nishishi~”

He let his face contort into something much darker. He was on autopilot now, he couldn’t stop the sinister venom that seeped out next. “I could have you killed in an instant.” 

He relaxed his features, and smiled sweetly back at him. He expected anger or fear, but Amami’s face remained friendly as ever, It stung. “I have a feeling that might be another lie.” He chuckled whilst reaching out his hand to Ouma. Ouma wondered if it was a lie, he had gotten people killed in the last game, but he wasn’t sure if he could bring himself to do it again.

Ouma stared dumbfounded at Amami’s hand for a second, before realising he was still cramped inside that dumb locker. He dismissed Amami’s hand with a wave before hoisting himself out, feeling his legs cramp he stretched out his thin limbs before neatly brushing dust off of his white outfit. He scowled whilst muttering to himself. “Yuck Amami has gross yaoi hands.” 

“Im sorry, what?” The taller boy gave him a puzzled look. His annoyingly long eyelashes fluttered innocently, contrasting the earrings that framed the side of his face from his ears. Amami was suspicious and Ouma didn’t trust him in the slightest but he wouldn’t lie, Amami was stupidly attractive.

“nothing just talking to myself!” He beamed brightly at him, contrasting his train of thought. The purple haired leader couldn’t tell if Amami was plain dumb or just a liar like him. The boy was almost too normal, to the point where Ouma felt suspicion gnawing at his back. He wasn’t sure which answer he would prefer though. 

Before he could tease Amami any more, offending light seeped into the room as the door creaked open to reveal two familiar faces. a blonde-haired girl who smiled cheerfully at the boys inside, and a timid looking boy stood anxiously behind her. 

Ouma couldn’t deny it was unsettling seeing Akamatsu again. His thoughts flickered back to the memory of her limp silhouette swaying above the piano keys, her dull lifeless eyes locked down on the horrified audience, and the feeling of her blood splattered onto his cheek as she came tumbling down. 

“Ah sorry for the intrusion!” she spoke in a melodic, friendly tone as she stepped from behind the door towards the two boys in the classroom. 

“You two must have woken up here too, ah I should introduce myself! I’m Akamatsu Kaede, the ultimate pianist.” she pressed her hands together as she gave them a heartfelt greeting but Ouma felt emptiness drown out her sentiment. Only he knew what transpired next, and only he had to pretend to be surprised at every word that left her mouth. He clenched his jaw to stop himself gritting his teeth. Why was he so pissed off? He had to get a hold of himself.

“Oh! and this is Saihara Shuichi, the ultimate detective!” she introduced him with pride edging on her voice. Ouma’s eyes travelled over the detective, he had to hold in a smile at the dumb emo hat he was wearing again.

Instead, Saihara all of a sudden looked very interested by a bolt on the floor besides his feet as he muttered self-consciously. “Well I’m only in training, actually.” A nervous smile twitched in his lips. He had forgotten how timid the detective had been when he first met him.

Ouma found himself sneaking forwards towards the boy, who was the only one in the room oblivious to his actions. he crouching down below his hat looking directly up at the boy who let out a startled yelp “boo.” Ouma couldn’t help his giggling fit as the detective almost jumped out of his skin at the boy suddenly in his field of vision. He heard Amami chuckling behind him.

“uh oh this isn’t good! If there’s a detective here we must be in reaaal trouble!” Ouma giggled as he tried to poke and prod Saihara’s hat “H-hey! Don’t do that!” the dark-haired boy cried out with an edge of annoyance to his voice. “just- id appreciate it if you respected my personal space.” The detective straightened up, almost looking Ouma in the eyes, well it was an improvement from the floor he decided triumphantly. 

Ouma huffed out a frustrated sigh, stepping back towards Amami “Jeeez fine ill just harass Amami instead.” He looked up at the green haired boy mischievously, who only quirked an eyebrow in return.  
“Ouma, maybe we should introduce ourselves? They are strangers to us after all.” Amami’s smile was relaxed and his eyes filled with patience and something else. Ouma would be lying if he said Amami didn’t unsettle him a little.

Instead of waiting for the small boy to reply he shifted his attention to the people still stood near the door. “Thank you for taking the time to introduce yourselves, I’m Amami Rantaro and this is-“  
“I’m your one and only Ouma Kokichi! Supreme leader of the underworld, crusader of the night! Defender of justice!” Ouma shouted out quickly with his hands on his hips proudly. Amami rolled his eyes slightly as he shook his head “that’s… Ouma.” 

“I see…” Akamatsu giggled a little, unsure of how to respond to the small boys antics.

Saihara almost looked amused but remained silent as he analysed the people in front of him, Ouma found himself wondering what the detective was thinking, and if he was already suspicious of him. His heart hurt a little at the thought, but everyone in the room must have come to the conclusion that Ouma was untrustworthy by this point, right? It was better this way anyway, he reminded himself. Meanwhile the detectives face remained unreadable to his frustration.

The purple haired boy was snapped out of his thoughts by Akamatsu’s voice. “So we’re all ultimate’s… I wonder why we’re all here, do you two know anything by any chance?” her facial expression was tinged with faint anxiety, and naive hope. instead Saihara spoke up again thoughtfully placing his hand on his chin. “Actually, Amami you never mentioned anything about a talent, are you an ultimate too?”  
Of course, the ultimate detective would pick at something so insignificant, Ouma would have rolled his eyes if he didn’t find it slightly endearing.

Akamatsu’s eyes lit up as if she had just had an epiphany. “Ah! Saihara’s right, you never actually said what your talent was…”  
Amami scratched the back of his head as he chuckled, if it was out of nervousness or amusement wasn’t entirely clear. “well, the thing is actually I don’t remember.” 

“you what!?” Akamatsu’s face dropped in disbelief. “How on earth could you forget about something like that?!”  
“maybe we’re in space!” Ouma chimed in gleefully.  
Ignoring Ouma’s outburst Saihara tapped Akamatsu on the shoulder “Ah maybe he has amnesia? Considering the circumstances were in it doesn’t seem that unlikely…” he thought out loud. “actually, that would still be quite odd.” He backtracked with a nervous smile. 

Instead Amami spoke up confidently “well whatever it is, brainwashing, amnesia, or a concussion I don’t think it really matters, I’m actually looking forward to remembering what my talent is!” He smiled light-heartedly, before he took on a more serious tone. “I think what’s more important right now is that we figure out what’s happening here, don’t you think?” despite the gravity his voice had taken on he still leaned against a table calmly. 

Ouma fidgeted with his sleeves and groaned. “You guys are boring me, I wanna play a game or do something fun.” He wasn’t really lying he felt cramped in the small room and itched to get outside.  
The blonde-haired pianist shot him a concerned look, Ouma concluded that it was not for his feelings but for his behaviour in general, his act was working he felt a bitter pride well up in his chest.  
“hmm, maybe after we get out of here…” Akamatsu pondered gently. “but we have to find an exit first.” She straightened up and looked determined to begin searching again, her shoulders fell at the green haired boy’s suggestion though.

“what makes you think there’s an exit? I haven’t seen one.” Amami smiled calmly despite his heavy words. The detective narrowed his eyes in suspicion as he questioned him. “what makes you think there wouldn’t be?” he asked cautiously in a quiet voice.

Amami kindly explained for them whilst Ouma hopped up onto a desk with a sigh, he swung his legs as his patience wore thin at their naïve questions.  
“well if someone’s gone to the trouble to kidnap ultimate’s, I doubt they would let us go that easily.” Amami chuckled, but after seeing the pairs faces drain of colour he backtracked looking a little guilty “sorry that was a little insensitive, we should probably look before jumping to conclusions, right?” he waved his hands around like he was trying to calm down frightened children and Ouma snorted under his breath. 

He swung his legs out and hopped off the desk “Right then its decided! I look for an exit and you three go search for more people!” Ouma declared whilst pointing his finger out to the three in question. In truth he just wanted to go back to his dorm and take a nap.

“No offense Ouma, but would you really tell us if you found an exit?” Saihara asked hesitantly, yet again avoiding the shorter boy’s eyes.

“Nishishi~ it’s no fun when you figure it out that quickly!” he decided to play along for now as he sauntered towards the exit, he briefly turned around to pass them a cheerful goodbye and a sickly sweet smile as he let his hands clasp the door handle, but just as he was about to swing it open he felt the force of it crash into his face, forcing him backwards into the wall, he cringed as he felt his hands scrape across the brittle wooden floor, grazing his palms. As he tried to pull himself up off of the floor he felt his forehead throb in a sharp sting and without thought he bitterly spat out “why did a fucking train just bust through the door?” he reopened his eyes to stare accusatorily at said train who hadn’t even noticed him yet.

Gonta was stood in the doorway yelling happily, albeit obliviously. “Kaito! Gonta found more people inside this room look!” 

Saihara knelt down besides Ouma with a hesitant but concerned look on his face “Ouma! Are you alright? That looked painful…” Akamatsu had a dumbfounded expression of her face as she stared up at the brutish looking giant in the doorway, whilst Amami looked concerned from his spot on the desk but didn’t move. “You should be more careful when opening doors…” Amami kindly notified Gonta.  
Ouma was taken aback by how Saihara was actually concerned for him, worry swirled around the detective’s eyes as he awaited a response. He really must have forgotten about all the shit Ouma had pulled in the killing game. He probably would have left him to bleed on the floor if he remembered, Oumas memory dragged up the disgusted look he had shot him when he had hit Kaito after the fourth trial. It was such a stark contrast. he almost laughed, honestly. 

“N-no way! Are you okay? Gonta did not mean to hurt you! Gonta so, so sorry for being so ungentlemanly!” The giant boy fumbled with his words as the realisation hit him. And Ouma wasn’t sure how he wanted to play this game anymore, he froze in his position on the floor, face blank of any expression. Gonta. In the last game he would have yelled at him and called him an idiot, probably cried way too loudly, then said it was a lie just to piss everyone off. But he was cracking, this was the boy he had thrown under the bus and allowed to die in his place. He wasn’t used to this genuine concern and it made his chest ache with guilt and something else he didn’t understand. He just stared at the floor. He knew he couldn’t do this here in front of everyone, he had to decide what his game plan was this time… he needed to think, he needed-

“What the hells going on in here?!” Kaito boomed out as he stomped into the room untactfully as always.  
Right, Ouma needed space. 

the room felt suffocating with so many people staring at him awaiting a response but he was too confused to give one.  
He pulled himself to his feet and quickly ducked out the door, sprinting down the hallway as fast as his legs would allow him, he ignored the concerned shouting behind him. he was still swaying from dizziness but he couldn’t stop his legs from running away. 

Why the hell did I do that? 

How am I going to fix this?

What the fuck is even happening?

He felt tears prick at his eyes as he neared the dorms, he just needed to be alone he couldn’t handle this at the moment. Throughout the whole killing game he had supressed real tears but after thinking it was over he had let his guard down.

He pulled the doors open, panting as his breath caught up with him, and pulled himself up the stairs to his dorm. Finding his room he threw the door open and slammed it shut, letting his body crumple against the door as sobs escaped his body. He was alone in the darkness again.

He thought this was over, he thought he wouldn’t have to put himself through this again.  
He wrapped his arms around his knees as he buried his head in them, letting his body shake with the sobs. God he was so sick of lying.

He didn’t know if he could handle putting himself through this again, playing the villain, making everyone hate him, pushing all his feelings down, until he wasn’t even sure if he had them.  
He didn’t even know if he was playing the villain, the things he did in the game were dirty and disgusting and seeing Gonta’s face like that had reminded him all too much of that. More sobs wracked his body as he felt hot salty tears streaming down his face. 

he wasn’t sure if the way he had acted in the last game was who he really was deep down to his rotten core, he had to lie to himself so much just to keep himself sane, to force himself to go through with it-  
Just admit it you’re a fucked up piece of shit and you can’t change. You can’t be friends with them, you can’t play nice. You have to find the mastermind. That’s the only reason you’re back. He repeated those words to himself like a mantra to get a hold of himself. 

Just as he began to steady himself, a light knock shook the door he was leaning on and he straightened up. He held in his breath and tried to stay as silent as he could, panic gripped him like a vice. He prayed to whatever he even held holy anymore that they hadn’t heard him in his pathetic state earlier.  
He almost cursed when he heard the familiar voice.

“Ouma… I know you’re in there.”


	4. Rose tinted glasses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I didn't think id do a pov change in a chapter so early but I couldn't help it oops  
> I still need to proofread this later when I get back sorry if theres any mistakes!  
> 

Saihara really wasn’t sure how to react at first… the confusing boy before him was flung away by the force of the door crashing into him, he cringed at the sickening thud of him crashing into the wall behind him.  
He panicked a little assuming the worst, he knew how easy it was for serious head injuries to occur after such trauma and he quickly made his way to the small heap on the floor. Ouma looked disorientated, his head lolled around as he tried to grasp his bearings, whilst a purple bruise matching his hair was forming on his forehead.

Saihara let out a brief sigh of relief as the boy began to complain about the culprit, but he felt concern bubbling in him as he noticed the boys face fall expressionless as he looked up at the detective.  
He was completely unreadable, Saihara felt heat rise to his cheeks as the boy blankly stared into his eyes, he found himself fumbling around for an excuse to stop the staring match. Instead he offered concern in place of his discomfort.

“Ouma! Are you alright? That looked painful…” Saihara inwardly cringed at how his voice cracked in his panic, it hadn’t even been his fault but he still felt sympathy for the small boy before him. Saihara studied Ouma’s features for any sign of a response, but he just stared blankly at him, not blinking. He almost looked like a statue. Maybe his head injury was worse than he had thought-

Just as he was about to try and help Ouma to his feet panic flashed across the small leader’s face, it was so quick that he had almost missed it, and wasn’t sure if it had been there in the first place.  
But what he was sure of is that he quickly got to his feet before dashing out of the door without a word, Akamatsu called after him but he appeared to not listen or care. Everyone in the room looked startled and concerned and the strange boy’s antics. Whilst Akamatsu and Amami debated over what had just happened, Saihara felt the urge to chase after the boy. 

“I should go find him! He might have a concussion…” Saihara stammered out quickly before curtly running out the room too. He heard Amami shout good luck to him from the classroom and he quickened his pace.  
He wasn’t really sure why he was chasing the odd stranger, maybe he was genuinely concerned for his health, or maybe his tendencies for searching for the truth in every abnormality were kicking in. either way he knew he should at the very least look for Ouma.

He reached an open room with a window and a large pair of doors, he found himself curiously peering out of the window to see a blur of purple and white running into another building in what looked like a courtyard. He almost didn’t realise that the boy had unintentionally found the exit, until he followed after him. 

After pushing the large doors with some force, he found himself breathing in cold air, He steadied himself, letting his eyes adjust to the sunlight glaring down at him, as his eyes focussed he saw something that caused his heart to sink. thick metal bars looming over his head, casting odd shadows on the grass around him, they were imprisoned. It was almost reminiscent of a bird cage.

After the realisation hit him that they were more than likely trapped here he suddenly felt the overwhelming urge to not be alone, he was tempted to go back and share his discovery with the others. Until he heard a door slamming in the building ahead.

Right, Ouma-kun was in there. 

He resumed his pursuit of the small leader, slowing to a jog as his exhaustion caught up to him, wow he really needed to do more exercise, he struggled to push open the next set of doors to what looked like… dormitories?

There were small pixelated avatars of several faces he did not recognise on the doors surrounding him, until he spotted some resembling his acquaintances from earlier, he scanned his eyes over the top floor and spotted a purple haired avatar, that was probably the one. 

Just as he began to make his way up the stairs, he heard a distinct whimper coming from what he assumed was Ouma’s door, he briefly wondered if the boy was in pain before he heard sniffles and more sobs following it. 

Saihara was never one to intrude on people’s private moments but his concern overread the doubts that were beginning to plague his mind. He spent about a minute just listening and wondering if he should turn around and give him some privacy. He probably should have, but his legs dragged him closer to the door anyway. 

He let out a deep sigh and tentatively knocked on the door, his hands were shaking but he had to check he was okay, even if the boy was a tad annoying, and childish from what he had gathered of their brief meeting. 

He heard the other side of the door go completely silent, if it wasn’t for the surprised gasp he heard he would have questioned if anyone had ever been there. He wasn’t an avid fan of ghosts but he often didn’t dismiss the idea. 

He decided to voice his concern, he didn’t want to pressure Ouma but he felt the awkwardness in the air needed to be broken before he talked himself out of it. “Ouma, I know you’re in there.” His voice wavered slightly with concern for the other boy’s reaction, would he just ignore him? Yell at him to go away? 

He wasn’t sure he could predict what was coming next but he certainly didn’t expect to see Ouma open the door with a bright cheerful smile, and only slightly puffy eyes to betray he had ever been crying in the first place. “nishishi~ did you really fall for that little prank? Saihara-chan is such a sucker!” Ouma sang out in a teasing voice. 

Saihara narrowed his eyes at the boy, he had been almost certain that his reaction earlier had been genuine, either way if the boy stood before him was telling a lie or the truth it was clear he was a very good actor.  
“Ouma I heard you crying, and your eyes are still puffy…” Saihara pointed out, he wasn’t usually this insensitive but he couldn’t help but point out his observations, he just wanted the truth really. 

If Ouma was startled he was very good at hiding it, the only give away was a rapid blink and his eyes flicking to the sides before he went on another spiel. “Of course I was crying! I got knocked over by that huge giant idiot! Anyone would be scared by that!” Ouma shouted out at him defensively, allowing tears to well up in his eyes again. 

“Just kidding! That was another lie, I just wanted to mess with you Saihara-chan!” the boy smiled back blankly, it wasn’t friendly or unfriendly Saihara noted, just void. He shivered a little. Ouma was a little too unpredictable for him to be comfortable but the boy was also a mystery to him. Before he could collect himself for a response Ouma began to walk away again, it seemed to be another strange habit of the boy, perhaps he enjoyed being alone. 

“Ouma-kun! Wait!” he tried to grab the boy by his baggy white sleeve before he could run away, but Ouma quickly shrugged his arm away before smiling back at him like he hadn’t just shoved him away.

“Hmmm? What does stalker-chan want now?” he said in a bitter tone, contrasting the sadistic smile twisting his face. Saihara felt the urge to get away from the boy mixing with his surprise at his nickname.  
“S-Stalker?! No No I just wanted to make sure your head is okay! Are you sure you don’t have a concussion…” Saihara spluttered out defensively at the boys accusation, he had only gone to check up on him after all, there was nothing weird about it, he wasn’t sure why Ouma was trying to accuse him of that.

Ouma just giggled light heartedly in response “aww, don’t tell me my precious Saihara-chan was worried about me? But don’t worry I’ve handled worse than this, as an evil supreme leader, people are allllways trying to kill me!” The boy’s laughter died down at his last comment and his smile faltered a little. Ouma spun around to push himself out the doors leaving Saihara blushing from the weird nicknames and feeling like a complete idiot for even trying to help him.

He wasn’t sure how difficult it would be to even become acquainted with Ouma, and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to, he seemed dangerous and unstable, and not to mention a tad infuriating. Saihara decided to let him be for now, there were bigger mysteries around him that took his priority.

With that in mind he thought it best to return to Akamatsu and Amami, he needed to share his discovery of the courtyard, he felt worry bubble up in his chest at how they might react, the discovery of their imprisonment was unsettling to say the least and it hadn't fully sunken in yet. 

 

 

Ouma bit down on his lip again as he walked through the hallways, he could taste coppery blood seeping into his mouth but he ignored the anxious habit as his thoughts swirled. He couldn’t believe he let his guard down so quickly, breaking down in front of someone was a huge risk, hopefully the detective had believed his lies and decided to stay away from him. If Saihara started to question things about him it could become complicated, it was best to avoid that.

Ouma often lied to protect himself, and he knew that. He lied when he felt threatened, or vulnerable and even for no reason sometimes. He accepted that was a core part of who he was, but in the last killing game he had started to lie to protect the others even when it had hurt him. It had unsettled him and confused his brain, he had started to forget who he even was at times, and what was acting and what was real.  
He occasionally wished the others understood his lies, despite his lies being in place to drive the opposite effect, they allowed him to attack and defend himself without ever giving any clue to his true feeling or weaknesses. It was so effective that he didn’t know when to stop sometimes. And people hated him for it. 

He didn’t really blame them, he hated liars too. But what he did blame them for was lying to themselves about lying, if he could pride himself in anything it would be that he was honest about his lying. The rest of the world shunned lies no matter what though, even if they were meant to protect people from cruel truths.

Maybe it would be best for him to lie to himself again today to keep himself from breaking down again. ‘I don’t care about them, they’re just pawns in my game.’ He winced at how he had used the others last time and gotten so many of them hurt, he felt the sudden urge to be sick and decided he couldn’t use that lie anymore, it sat uncomfortably in his chest like pinecones being stuffed down his throat.  
He wasn’t ready to play the part of a sadistic mastermind yet, he couldn’t deny that he hated himself through every second of it, especially the times he found himself enjoying it slightly. He needed a different cover for now, he would think of a game plan later. 

Before he could think of a new lie to tell himself he ran into something big and squishy that flung him back, he stumbled back into the wall and almost fell over for the second time that day.

He cursed his luck before looking up at what he had ran into, and then cursed it again. “Watch where you’re going you balloon titted bitch!” Ouma spat at the flustered looking girl in front of him. Her embarrassment quickly turned to rage though. 

“you walked into me you raisin dicked grape turd! Bet you just wanted a face full of these babies!” Iruma started flaunting her chest around proudly and Ouma wished he could say he missed her, but of course that would be a lie.

Sure she didn’t deserve to die, and especially not in such a gruesome way but she was still a balloon titted bitch, who had tried to kill him no less, but he decided to let that slide since he wasn’t much better.  
She was followed by a flustered robot who quickly tried to diffuse the situation, Ouma ran past the girl who was still gawked at her own chest straight into the robot, a wide grin exploded on his face as he tried to hug the boy, who quickly tried to get away. “C-3PO Where are you going?” he whined despite the grin plastered on his face, he chased after Kiibo who begged him to call him by his real name. “Ill call you by your name if you shoot lasers out your eyes!” 

Iruma on the other had cracked an even larger grin at the suggestion. “Actually that can be arranged! Laser eyes are nothing for a genius like me, but I bet the pervy robot would prefer Xray vision!” she laughed her signature laugh as Kiibo looked scared for his life and began to run away. Ouma decided to ditch Iruma and chase after the entertaining cyborg.

After about 20 minutes of running around he had found super mom, the piano idiot with a hero complex, Tarzan with even worse literary skills and terminator, unfortunately not the Kiibo kind, the steely eyed assassin kind. He was about to give up on his search until he heard a familiar crackle above him. He froze, he was just beginning to have fun again and forget until a noise he never wanted to hear again offended his eardrums.

Ding dong, bing bong.

Son of a bitch. 

Ouma flicked his gaze up at the monitor to see monokubs lined up on a couch, he had been desperately trying to avoid their annoying antics as he re-explored the school.  
“Hi hello! Thanks for bearing with us.” The cheerful pink bear said oh so sweetly. Ouma cringed distastefully it made him want to GAG. 

“kept you bastards waiting huh? Make your way to the gym, right now!” the blue ugly one growled out, Ouma couldn’t help but roll his eyes.  
“the opening ceremony is about to begin!” they all declared in unison. Ouma let out a sarcastic yippee whilst he briefly wondered what would happen if he skipped it, but didn’t really want to find out for himself, his guess was that he would probably get crushed by an exisal and he didn’t quite feel like being squished again just yet.

Just as he turned the corner to the hallway towards the gym he noticed a familiar mess of green hair with its ear pressed to the door cautiously, Ouma cracked a grin as he sauntered up to the boy who straightened himself out in return, pretending like he wasn’t just doing something so uncool. Ouma couldn’t quite stifle his giggle at the look of dread on Amami’s face, it was precious really. “is Mr suspicious-chan suspicious of that big ol’ door?” he teased him and Amami simply shook his head, “speaking of suspicious why did you run off so suddenly earlier?” 

Ouma let a smirk form across his lips as he lied. “I was playing a prank on our silly little Saihara-chan, Nishishi~” 

Amami frowned and almost sounded like he was scolding the boy. “Hey that’s not very nice, he seemed pretty worried y’know.” But Ouma only giggled in return. They both turned their attention to the door as sounds escaped from the other side, it sounded like shouting and Ouma quirked an eyebrow whilst Amami leaned in to press his ear against it once again. “I can hear… lots of voices but I can’t quite understand what they’re saying-“

Ouma cut him off by placing his hands on the doors and shoving them open with a little bit too much force, the doors of course flew open, crashing against the walls on the other side of the room and poor oblivious Amami stumbled in ungracefully.  
All shocked eyes in the room were set on them. “Woah you were right Amami-chan! There aaare a bunch of suspicious people hiding in here!” Ouma declared loudly.

Amami shot him a look of slight frustration and betrayal, he looked caught off guard as he yelled trying to fix the situation. “hey…! I never said that”-  
“Who the fuck are you calling suspicious you cheese dicked hippie?”Miu spat from the corner of the room. 

Saihara spoke up instead “Ah Iruma I think Ouma was just making that up…” he sounded rather unsure and amused as Akamatsu giggled beside him, she helped Amami to his feet who muttered something about removing all the doors because they were a death trap.

Just as they had settled into a comfortable atmosphere of light chatter they heard a strange laugh coming from the podium directly in the centre of the stage, most people went quiet and began to fidget whilst some just looked slightly done with the situation, mostly including Maki, Hoshi, Korekiyo and Amami. 

“I am the god of this new world!” The annoyingly shrill voice cried out, the distasteful monochrome bear was back and Ouma couldn’t hold in a retaliation.  
“hey you can’t just steal my title like that!” He spat indignantly at the bear, it went mostly ignored as the others voiced their confusions and the 6 bears on stage made a bunch of refences he was sure Tsumugi was drooling at. 

He had lost his focus until he heard Amami’s voice in the crowd “What I’m more concerned about is the killing game you mentioned earlier.” He said thoughtfully, Ouma gave him a quizzical look, he sure was calm for a guy who introduced himself as “totally not suspicious.” Or whatever.

Ouma decided it was time he said something “Oh yeah! Headmaster please oh so kindly fill us in!” he shouted in a voice laced with sarcasm. Himiko didn’t seem to take not of his tone as she gave him a disgruntled look. “what are you so excited over?” she muttered coldly. 

Ouma hummed as he listened to second explanation of the killing game, he yawned earning an annoyed look from Akamatsu, she had nudged him a few times and whispered about paying attention but it seemed her patience had worn thin. “Ouma do you not understand the gravity of this situation? We could be killed!” Saihara side eyed them carefully as Ouma shrugged. 

Akamatsu had shown a lot of resistance against Monokuma so far but she seemed a bit ticked off now as she glared at Monokuma coldly. “No matter what you say, none of us are going to stoop to that, we’ll find another way out of here.” 

Ouma was the only one who knew what exactly she would stoop to in a few days from now, and found himself a bit in awe at how quickly people could change, deep down he felt bad for the oblivious girl before him. He knew she wasn’t lying or at least she didn’t think she was, she dripped sincerity with every syllable.

Now Ouma wasn’t going to pretend to be a good person, he knew he was an asshole at the best of times. But he wanted to at least try something. As he heard the cackling Monokuma tell her that one of them would indeed kill, he wondered if he could find a way to prevent the death of their first and second victims, Amami and Akamatsu.  
He cracked a grin from ear to ear, now this… would be interesting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow so you made it to the end of the chapter! thanks for reading ^^  
> these last two chapters are the first piece's of writing i've done about half a year I think, the point is I really want to improve my writing so I'm very open to any criticism you may have, id love to hear your thoughts!   
> so yeah! cya next chapter~


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